I was never a bad kid. Got good grades, never got in trouble in school, trained hard in taekwondo. Just as I was supposed to. My dad was never around but my godfather was always there for me. I lived with my mom but things never seemed right even when I was little. My mom never worked, she was on disability payments, housing, food stamps etc.
I learned at a young age that my mom was not want you would call normal. I would be punished for things I didn't know what I did. That was always the part I never understood. She would always get more mad at me when I asked what I did, even if I legitimately didn't know. Her mood would switch in an instant, we would be having fun playing a board game then all of a sudden she was yelling about something that happened 2 days ago as if it were happening again.
Once I got to be about 9 or 10 whenever my mom would get mad she would threaten to call CPS and have them take me away. "You want me to call CPS and have them take you away? Is that what you want?" She would always say. Being so young that scared me. Although I knew things weren't right it scared me so I would start balling and begging my mom to have me stay and I love her and I don't want to go. Power was all she was after I see now. I've also found out from another family member my mom actually didn't want me in the house. Apparently she said she just didn't want us now. My aunt was going to take me but a couple days before my mom was supposed to sign over her custody she changed her mind. She must have realized she wouldn't have control anymore.
When I turned about 12 I started having issues with my own mental health. This included anxiety, depression, flashbacks, and terrible nightmares. When I had my first real anxiety attack I couldn't stop scratching my arm. By the time there was no skin in my forearm I felt better. This is when I got into self harm. I was eventually sent to an impatient mental health facility for a week. I attended groups, had my free time, etc. it was actually a nice break from my mom. A week after I was released I attempted suicide and landed myself right back where I was before. I started thinking how weird I must be to be in and out of these places. This only made the behavior worse.
One of the skills I learned helped me best was to just talk about my feelings and if I felt like self harm I was supposed to tell a trusted adult. My mom forced me to put her on that list. I attempted several times but any time my mom got the hint I wanted to hurt myself she would call the police. Felt silly to call the police rather than just bring me to the hospital if she thought I was in that much danger. Most of the time I felt better after just talking to the nurse I felt better and didn't want to pursue my thoughts. They would call my mom and say they will not be admitting me and her response was always "well if she's gonna be thinking like that I don't want her here." So they'd send me to a crisis shelter. I'd spend about 2-3 days there before my mom would pick me up.
One time I had cut myself not deep at all because I was trying to fight it and I called my godfather. At this point I had realized I didn't want to hurt myself just wanted the feelings to go away. I messaged my godfather on Skype to come over and I had sent him a picture. There was about 5 or 6 cuts, not even bad enough to drip blood. What I didn't know at the time was my mom was logged into my Skype on her phone. She called my godfather on his way over and asked how bad it was because apparently she had not seen the picture yet. My godfather said it looked like a few scratches nothing to serious and he would deal with it. Not even 10 minutes after my godfather got to my house did my mom call him saying either he bring me to the hospital or she calls the police and has them bring me. So he brought me to the hospital and we sat in the room for about 3 hours before they said I could go home. I waited another couple hours not understanding what was going on. Turns out they once again we're finding me a place to go. I never understood why they wouldn't let me go to my godfather house but they ended up shipping me to a crisis shelter an hour north.
I had finally been able to speak to my mom after 3 days and she told me she was cutting my godfather off. Reason being she says he lied to her about the cuts. She claims they were more serious than he had told her so it wasn't safe. Not even a month later I was in another shelter again. My friends mom had heard about me in and out and offered to take me in. Sounded nice at the time but turned out to be a nightmare.
I lived in the spare room which was in the basement. It was stacked to the ceiling with boxes, so much so they were leaning over the bed. I ended up having to clean the entire room just for my own safety. On top of that they had a pet rabbit. I don't think that cage had been cleaned since they got it. It reeked down there. Hard to breathe even. There was bay and shit everywhere, not just the cage. It was a fire hazard and a half. I did not feel safe at all. My mom had made the rule no internet therefore I was not allowed to have a phone.
I volunteered at a preschool that was owned by one of the family's friends. I was to wash dishes during nap time and there was a land line phone. I called my godfather after not speaking to him in months and asked him if he could get me a phone and explained to him the situation. He met me at the YMCA 2 days later when we took the preschoolers for swim lessons. Of course he went above and beyond allowing me internet as well.
After about 6 months of staying with my friends family they pick me up from the preschool and say it's time to go home. I was confused and I asked why and she said "it's just time." I never understood what that meant. Never knew if it was me or my mom but either way I was terrified in both places. When I went back home my mom searched my things and immediately found the phone and asked where I got the money for the service. I had told her the situation of why I needed the phone at the time and I admitted that it was my godfather. At first she was kind of ok with it. I was still not to talk to him but she let me keep the phone. Then one day I was watching a movie in the basement of my moms house and she came down smashed the phone over a dresser, bending it in half, and telling me I should have had everything cleaned before I went down there. 3 days later she pursued a restraining order on my godfather. I thought initially she was just going to tell the courts that she didn't want him talking to me but I guess that wasn't enough.
She claimed that when I was 7 he molested me. Really? Her story after that would also continue to change. It starts with my mom going to the casino and my godfather watching me. Sometimes I was 4 sometimes I was 7. He calls my mom saying I'm scared of him he doesn't know whats going on but won't let him touch me. So she comes home and checks in. Sometimes I told her what happened, sometimes I didn't, but the thing that was always the same is she went back to the casino.
It was now the summer between 7th and 8th grade. This was when I lost my virginity and realized that it was easy to get that kind of attention. No one in my middle school was into it, still to young, so I started searching older. The juniors and seniors were all over me and I loved it. I finally was getting the attention I thought I deserved. Then things started getting bad again. My friends parents had caught on to my behaviors and told all of my friends they couldn't speak to me anymore. We were all on the same swim team so I went from being popular to sitting on the bleachers by myself, no one at the end of my lane cheering me on. I was once again alone. Except for my guys. I realized being a slut wasn't a good answer but I thought if I could find a boyfriend it would be better. I began dating a boy 3 years older than me. He introduced me to marijuana and to this day is one of my best friends.
My mom would consistently tell me to leave during an argument "go to one of your friends houses or something!" She'd yell at me. But then every time I left even at her request she would call me in as a runaway
My behavior got out of control once he was out of my life. I had no one to talk to so I started seeking attention. I was sent to The crisis shelter again and finally they caught on and got a social worker involved. My mom agreed that foster care would be the best idea. Especially now that she was pregnant and I was "putting her in danger." I was put into foster care for 6 months before I was kicked out. I was kicked out because I refused to go to work with my foster mom. My foster mom worked as a therapist for registered sex offenders. I was not about to have her take me into a building with at least 5 sex offenders in the same place at 14 years old. So instead she took me back to my moms house. I was there for 3 months until I was sent to treatment...